If Only
by UniqaChica
Summary: Just because Mike Royce is dead doesn't mean he can't still give his favorite rookie a little help, and maybe a certain partner of hers. Tag to "To Love and Die in L.A."  Rated T just in case.


(A/N: Sucky title, but please read anyway! I like to think of this as some of my best work! Enjoy!)

Summary: Just because Mike Royce is dead doesn't mean he can't still give his favorite rookie a little help, and maybe a certain partner of hers. Tag to "To Love and Die in L.A."

Disclaimer: "Castle" is owned by some genius torturers who are not me. End of story.

If Only

A Beckett/Castle Fanfic

by Jill Diamond

_If only..._

_If only..._

Those words echoed in her head, almost as if Mike had spoken them himself.

And then, without any explanation, she found herself staring at the door handle again, promising her safety but daring her to escape to something that terrified and enthralled her at the same time. Her hand literally shook as is hovered over the curved handle, her fingers twitching to some off tempo.

_If only..._

She took that bold step; swallowed her pride and anything else that might have taken the ride up with it down her throat in one swift gulp. Her fingers steadied as the grasp she drew around the metal grew tighter. It was a mere two Mississippis, but it played in slow motion. As the door to her bedroom opened, so did the door to her walls. A feline curiosity coursed through her; rode on every wave of her pulse. Bold but frightened. Her eyes looked out with a certain eagerness that not even she could pinpoint on any scale.

But it was no use. The doors to opportunity had been shut.

_If only..._

That damn pride made its way up her throat once more, but a new found braveness sentenced it back to its holding cell.

"...Castle?" she called out, her voice croaking gently on the first syllable.

Almost instantaneously the door to opportunity opened up wide once more, bringing him with it. He was looking on her with _those _eyes. The eyes that were purely Richard Castle, not the publicity stunt playboy he sold to everyone else. The eyes that told her everything she didn't want, yet dreamed, to hear; showed her everything she didn't want, yet longed, to be. The eyes that made her melt on the inside no matter how much she tried to prevent it. He didn't speak a word, but he didn't have to.

Her hand dropped from the handle and pressed itself onto the thigh of her jeans, either to keep them from shaking or to confirm that at least one thing was real in this dream-like state.

Kate crossed the room at a snail's pace. His eyes never changed and never left hers, and she never left his. She paused when the distance between them grew thin. Her hand dropped from her leg, still as a stone. She could barely feel his breath mingle on her cheeks.

There was something on his shoulder. Kate could see it out of the corner of her eye and it was driving her insane. She left his gaze to turn to his shoulder and gently brush away the piece of fuzz that had decided now of all times to be a pain in the ass. But the more she brushed, the more Kate found herself concentrating on the heat radiating from underneath his shirt, and less on the fuzz that had by now been discarded to the floor to be picked up by the maid in the morning. As she found the strength to rest her own very warm palm on his shoulder, her eyes returned to his, still unwavering and still burrowing into her soul.

_If only..._

Her free hand found itself rising away from her side until it reached her eye level. Not exactly conscious of her actions, or even in mild control of them, Kate reached out and touched his cheek, caressing with her thumb the familiar Castle stubble that would no doubt be gone by sunrise.

There seemed to be a magnetic attraction between them. She took another careful step forward and found her stomach lightly pressed against his in some kind of confirmation. It was those damn eyes of his, like they were hypnotizing her. She couldn't help but be drawn close to them, want to drown in them. Her own eyelids began to flutter, as if telling her the clock was about to strike twelve and be quick about it why don't you? With one more swipe of her thumb against his jaw, she found herself losing resistance in one swift motion. Her toes pushed her up as if to gain their credit of helping Kate reach her target. There was very little space between their lips...

And then it was gone as Kate woke, her nose and forehead pressed into the less than forgiving upholstery of the first class seat. Out the window (the seat of which Richard gladly gave up for her), night was black – at least three in the morning. Wherever they were.

Kate righted herself and brushed off the trail of saliva that had maneuvered its way onto her chin as she slept, then glanced over to her left. Castle was out like a light. His chest moved deeply with each breath; just one corner of his mouth tugged in an irregular beat, and with each beat came a little snore.

"Castle?" she whispered, as to not wake any of the other sleepers on the plane. Richard sat there like a rock, unfazed by the detective's inquiry. She leaned in close to his exposed ear, smelling the last of his cologne wearing off from that day.

"Rick." She spoke almost inaudibly, but directly into his eardrum.

The novelist woke with a start, and a much louder chord of snorts, and Kate backed away from his ear as his tired eyes searched for his caller.

"...Kate?" he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes like a child. "Everything okay?"

Kate thought she knew what she was going to say, but once Castle had pulled his knuckles away from his face, she was robbed of all clear thought. This wasn't her dream, but he still had those eyes, as if he were an open book she could write all her secrets down in. And then in a minute, he would lock them away safely and guard them with a cheesy smile.

"Uh...yeah, I wanted...I...Do you have an extra pillow? I'm kind of getting a crick, here."

Richard simply stared at her for a moment, comprehending what she had just said, and was caught somewhat off-guard at her simple request.

"Um, no, I don't think I do..." he drifted off as he searched around their seats. And then his eyes lit up with that "brilliant but completely stupid idea" sparkle, as Beckett had dubbed it, and placed his own soft pillow at the median point of their seats.

"Oh, Castle, you don't-"

"I have suffered many a horrible neck cramp on a plane," he interrupted, obviously not taking "no" for an answer. "I will be fine." And then he patted on Kate's half with a golfer's clap.

She could only give him a hybrid of emotions represented with a tiny smile as she settled herself down into the comfort, and he did the same. Their foreheads were nearly touching, due to the pillow's insufficient width, but Kate didn't complain as she watched Rick fall under again nearly instantly.

Before she closed her eyes, she snaked around to her backside and wriggled it into the back pocket of her jeans, feeling Mike's letter one more time. A sense of security washed over her, as his last words had been doing for the last hour.

_The End_

(A/N: Yeahhhh..., ain't I just the biggest tease you ever met? God, that scene in the hotel in this episode just KILLED me! Like, literally killed me! *shows off "straight-line" heart monitor* ^^ Anyway, be sure to review, and hope you enjoyed!)


End file.
